Hidden Talents
by LilRicki
Summary: I needed something lighthearted to cheer me up. Pure fluff, with a dash of Rodney whump&angst. PreSunday. Can be McWeir if you want, but it ain't necessarily so.


_Author's Note:_ Thanks to Sarah and Angela for the beta. All mistakes are mine.

**Hidden Talents**

_by_ LilRicki

Elizabeth woke an hour before her alarm went off, but seeing as her mind immediately began whirring with the day's to-do list, she gave up additional sleep as a lost cause. Instead, she showered, dressed, grabbed a cup of coffee before the cafeteria filled with the daily breakfast rush, and started out on a leisurely stroll of her city.

Of course, Atlantis didn't really belong to her. She didn't even possess the Ancient gene that allowed a lucky few to light it up with a mere thought. And yes, it was true that command of the expedition could be stripped from her the moment the higher-ups back on Earth got fed up with her policies. But for now, walking through the corridors, watching the sun peek over the ocean horizon, casting multi-colored streams of light on the Ancient architecture as the beams passed through the stained glass windows worthy of any cathedral on Earth, Elizabeth felt both protectiveness and love fill her, not only for the city itself, but its inhabitants as well. And that, she thought, for now anyways, gave her the right to call it her own.

She passed a number of marines on their daily runs. She looked for her commanding military officer, but either he took a different route every morning or had decided to sleep in. She hoped it was the latter – the team's latest mission had been . . . stressful, to say the least. Carson had ordered all four to take it easy for at least two days, not even releasing them to light duty, and Elizabeth had agreed. She just hoped they were following the advice.

She checked her watch, noting that she had forty-five minutes before her first meeting. She was almost grateful for the inability to sleep, as it allowed her a good block of early morning solitude to prepare for the day.

And, apparently, at least one other felt the same way. Passing the labs, she stopped and peered through the doorway at the slumped figure of one Doctor Rodney McKay, clutching a coffee cup in one hand and propping his chin up with the other, eyes glazed as they stared at the laptop screen before him.

Elizabeth almost "tsked" before catching herself. Rodney was supposed to be resting, not working at this early hour. Beckett would throw a fit.

"Rodney?"

The physicist jerked slightly, focusing on Elizabeth as she walked over to his bench.

"Elizabeth! Oh, um . . . what are you doing up so late?" He absently rubbed his eyes.

"Late?" Elizabeth set her coffee on the table and pulled up a stool opposite him, quirking an eyebrow. "Rodney, it's quarter-after six." He stared blankly at her. "In the morning," she emphasized.

"Oh!" His hands fluttered slightly. "Yes, ah, of course." He stared at the cup in his hand and grimaced when he realized it was empty.

"Wait, do you mean to tell me you've been here _all night?_"

"Well, not _all_ night, not technically – "

"Rodney, you know you're supposed to be taking a break. From what I understand, none of you got much sleep the two days you were on that planet."

"I did take a break, thank you very much. It's not my fault that – "

At this point the scientist stood, cup in hand, and turned toward the coffee maker at the rear of the lab. Unfortunately, hours spent hunched in the same position, a stressful past couple of days, and no sleep were a combination that had not been kind to his body. With an "oof!" he dropped the cup back on the bench and awkwardly tried to grab at the offending muscles in his back.

"Rodney! Are you okay?"

Rodney groaned and leaned forward on the bench in an attempt to alleviate some of the pain.

"No, no, does it look like it? Ugh, I think I pulled a muscle. No, I know I pulled a muscle. Ah crap . . ."

"Relax, Rodney, it's probably just a cramp. Take it easy for a moment."

"A cramp? A cramp!? Sorry, Elizabeth, but I think this level of pain is more than _a cramp_. Oh man, maybe you should call Beckett . . ."

"So he can berate you for staying in the lab all night? Him and all those pointy needles at his disposal?"

There was a pause as McKay met her eyes.

"You know, I think you're right. It's just a cramp, I'll walk it off. Can't be too hard, huh? I'm, you know, manly. I can handle it."

Elizabeth fought to hide her smile as the physicist eased himself back onto the stool in front of his laptop.

"What's not your fault?"

"What?"

"You said you took a break, but that it wasn't your fault that . . ." Elizabeth trailed off, inviting him to finish the sentence.

"Oh, uh . . ." Rodney pulled one hand from behind his back to wave at the air. "It's not my fault that my body and mind refuse to sleep. Genius here, remember? I can't just turn that off."

"Did you think about asking Beckett for help?"

"Oh, please Elizabeth, and give him the satisfaction? I don't think so."

"I'm sorry Rodney, I just don't see how you're not exhausted after the past couple days. You could at least try – "

"I did try, Elizabeth." Rodney's abrupt tone change had her meeting his eyes, and for a brief moment, she glimpsed . . . something. Something dark and haunted. But then he was looking back at his laptop and wincing as he again tried to rub his own back. "It's just . . . not easy sometimes, okay? I have to let my brain work it out in its own time."

And suddenly, Elizabeth thought she understood. Rodney was right – he couldn't just "switch off" his genius whenever he wanted, and that probably meant he had trouble switching other things off, too.

She wondered if he had nightmares. Or maybe he just woke in the middle of the night with the awful, terrifying sensation that he had forgotten to do something, that he had to do it now, right now, or people would die, his team would die, and he needed to fix this because that was his job, they were counting on him, and if he failed, he failed everyone.

Oh yes, Elizabeth knew that feeling.

"Oh."

The single syllable communicated volumes. McKay seemed to realize he had opened up too deeply and furiously tried to backtrack.

"Uh, it's probably healthy, you know? I don't know much about medicinal voodoo, of course, but it makes sense, right? To let the body work out stress in its own way, and, and when it's ready, it'll recharge on its own time. So, so that's what I'm doing, just following the, uh, the logical course of action . . ."

He trailed off in the face of Elizabeth's smile, and with a small "hmm" returned his attention to the laptop. He continued to hold himself at a strange angle, trying to minimize pressure on his back.

"Rodney?" Elizabeth folded her hands on the table and looked at him.

"Hmm, yes?"

"We're friends, right?"

"What? Uh, of course, why - why wouldn't we be?"

"Then will you let me do something for you right now, something a friend would do?"

"If you're going to call in Carson and the big needles – "

"No no, nothing like that. Here," she said as she circled the table, took him by the arm and led him toward the back of the deserted lab.

"What are you doing?"

"Trust me." They had reached one of the low cots lining the wall of the lab, kindly provided for the weary scientists who neglected to leave their work. "Lie down on your stomach."

"What?" Rodney practically squeaked, but allowed Elizabeth to guide him down. "Uh, are you sure this is appropriate? I mean, what if – ooooohhhhhhhh . . ."

The physicist's objections were lost in a deep moan as she began gently kneading her fingers into his lower back, where she had seen him clutch at the cramp. Kneeling beside him to gain more leverage, she asked, "How does that feel?"

"Holy crap . . ." The words were slightly muffled, his head resting sideways on one arm while the other dangled loosely off the side of the cot. She could feel the tension leaking from him and could swear his eyes were slightly crossed. "Where'd you learn that?"

"I think it's a skill most women are born with," she said, smirking slightly. "We're just naturally more touchy-feely than men."

"Oh wow . . . " He closed his eyes and murmured, "Maybe men should be more touchy-feely, too . . ." Suddenly, he jerked up his head and shot back at her, "Don't tell Sheppard I said that."

"Your secret's safe with me." Elizabeth grinned as Rodney sighed and dropped his head back to his arm.

Elizabeth worked methodically, seeking out knots and doing her best to loosen them, moving higher and higher on the physicist's back. It was no easy task; McKay was one big ball of tension and strain. She finally commented on it when she reached a particularly nasty portion just below his shoulders.

"It's a tangled mess back here, Rodney. Is your bed full of nails or something?"

"Hey," he said sleepily, "I like my prescription mattress. It's very – uuunnnggghhh . . ." Elizabeth had at this point used her elbow to dig into an exceptionally tough spot, and so never found out just what McKay thought of his mattress. "Hmmm," he continued, even softer than before, "but I like this better . . ."

Finally moving to his shoulders, Elizabeth heard the scientist emit a small groan along with something she had to move close to hear.

"'Liz'beth?"

"Yes, Rodney?"

"Thanks . . ."

Elizabeth smiled as his voice trailed away into nothing. "You're welcome."

She spent a while kneading his neck – because he was tense there, too, wouldn't you know – before once more running her fingers down the length of his back. Finally, she sat back and arched like a cat until her own spine popped.

"Okay Rodney," Elizabeth said, standing and flexing her fingers repeatedly, "that's all my hands can take for the day. Consider yourself lucky. I haven't given anyone a backrub like that since college."

The astrophysicist didn't move. The fingers of the hand hanging over the cot trailed lightly on the floor.

"Rodney?"

She was answered by a soft snore.

For a moment, Elizabeth didn't know whether to be pleased or insulted. She quickly settled on pleased.

"Well, that's one way to get you to follow doctor's orders."

A smile graced her features as she turned to leave the lab, only to be abruptly dispelled at the sight of Doctor Carson Beckett standing not ten feet away.

"Carson! I, uh – I was just . . . you know Rodney, he – how long have you been standing there?"

The only words Elizabeth could have used to describe the physician's face were "in awe" – but rather than staring at her, the wide eyes focused only on the sleeping scientist.

"He's asleep? Really?"

"Er, yes, or else he's a very good actor."

Carson blinked and seemed to notice Elizabeth's presence for the first time before quickly grabbing her arm.

"Well, come on, we must let sleeping scientists lie, now!" He steered her to the front of the lab as he spoke. "I don't know what you did, lass, but I am eternally grateful. I fully expected to have to bloody force-feed him some sleeping pills fit for a horse."

"Oh," said Elizabeth, slightly flustered. The lab lights dimmed at Beckett's mental command and the doors whooshed quietly shut as they exited. "I just showed him a relaxation technique," she said, shrugging as if it were no big deal.

"Whatever it was, I'm glad you did it. Too often Rodney just doesn't know when to quit." Beckett stood and faced her, a smile on his lips. "Now he can't complain about me 'drugging him into submission,' as he likes to call it."

Elizabeth smiled back. "I'll order that no one disturbs him today. Any experiments in this lab can wait at least that long."

"Aye, that's a good idea." Beckett eyed her thoughtfully. "Just what kind of relaxation technique did you use, now?"

"Oh, just one my mother showed me," Elizabeth evaded, glancing at her watch. "Oh! Well, it's later than I thought. I've got to run Carson, I'll see you later!" And with that, she was down the corridor and hurrying away.

Carson waited until she was out of sight before he allowed himself a chuckle. "Now lass," he said to the walls, "is it that you don't want folk to know you're an excellent masseuse, or just the fact that you used your talents on your chief of science, hmm?" He chuckled again and began walking the opposite way down the corridor. "I see great blackmail potential here. Lord knows, I've had a crick in my neck for a week now . . ."

And in the lab, his personal domain of science, Doctor Rodney McKay slept peacefully for the first time in three days.

_Author's Note:_ My third fic ever (hey, gotta play the "newbie fanfic writer" card while I can, huh?). Still very nervous about posting my work. Feedback, of both the positive and constructively critical kinds, is much appreciated.


End file.
